Chapter 48
Avilyna
TWIN FLAMES
Kazuki finally calls an end to the training. After handing me my assignments, he surprises me with a rare show of leniency. Permission to skip his class this week, as long as I stay on top of my personal work.
“We’ll resume Monday,” he says.
I can’t help the small, genuine smile that escapes before we turn toward one of the exits.
But it fades as we pass the mural. It’s the only touch of darkness in this otherwise sacred place.
The valkyrie on the wall cuts a sharp contrast against the temple’s aesthetic.
Wings soaked in blood, dripping down, pooling at her feet.
Arms outstretched, her gaze fixed, commanding, daring you to look away.
Read me, hear me, a warning of the dark days to come.
In the realm of Elgar, one day darkness will reign,
A fallen angel shall awaken from its dream.
With wings of fire and a heart burdened with plight,
Its blood shall wield power to set things right.
Through the veil of time, its return is foreseen,
To restore the balance and mend what has been.
With each drop of its blood, evil shall be undone,
And the stolen peace of Elgar shall be won.
So mark this prophecy, let its words resound,
For the lost valkyrie's return shall be unbound.
With its blood as the catalyst, evil shall cease,
And the harmony of Elgar shall find its release.
“What does it mean?” I whisper.
Kazuki doesn’t answer right away; he stares at the mural for a long moment, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the valkyrie’s bloodstained wings. Then he speaks quietly, as if choosing every word with care.
“As I said, you’re the daughter of the late Queen and King of Kallahan.
Daughter of the strongest valkyrie the realm has ever known, and promised to the most powerful elf seen in centuries.
A match made in heaven, even if they weren’t twin flames.
Your blood is sacred.” It makes sense that Sensei Sato had guessed who I was.
He knew I was coming, not me per se, but a valkyrie.
Yet, it doesn’t answer the question behind the meanings of these sacred words.
If one of the oldest and wisest voices in this court doesn’t have the answer…
Then maybe no one does. Maybe whatever they imply was lost to time or hidden for a reason.
And that’s the real danger of a prophecy.
It’s never about what it says. It’s about what no one understands, until it’s too late.
People cling to words like that; they twist them, turn them into gospel.
Build thrones and wage wars based on the meanings they want to believe in; doing so, they shape the world around them.
Not through truth, but interpretation, a gamble with fate.
Only time will tell whether the Gods really carved their will into the stars or if we’ve all been chasing false truths.
‘Not twin flames.’ The word tugs at something buried deep, carrying weight. From the way he said it, it sounds a lot like a derived word for soulmates, but I know that’s not right, not even close. It’s greater, I can feel it.
“Twin flames?” I don’t need to explain the question; Kazuki gets it instantly. His response is the classic trademark of skeptics.
“Haven’t you been paying attention in history class?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just keeps walking, eyes forward. While I drag myself up the stoned stairs, muscles aching, breath catching. I don’t bother hiding the soft grunts that escape me; I’ve earned them.
“Every being is born from the fire of Aetheria,” he begins. “The soul, as the mundanes call it. That flame is split in two, and that split creates twin flames.” Kazuki pauses, looking at something I can’t see. “Finding your flame, though,” he adds quietly, “is rare.” I let the thought settle.
The idea that somewhere out there, scattered across stars and timelines, fragments of us are still searching, still waiting to feel whole. Maybe twin flames aren’t just myths, maybe they’re separated not just by distance but by fate itself, playing a wicked game.
Kazuki’s voice drops, low and bitter. “It’s one of the Gods’ favourite torments.
” There’s something in the way he says it, as if he’s not just speaking from knowledge, but from experience.
A quiet kind of ache he’s still carrying.
The echo of our footsteps is the only sound, layered with the rhythm of my breath.
“Before you go, remind me what you promised.”
“To do all my assignments but take the weekend off from training. To keep my mind sharp and my katana hidden, unless my survival depends on it. I know what I have to do.” A small, teasing smile slips through.
“And you, Sensei? Maybe try to relax, drink some tea or get some sun.” He’s about to argue, but I turn around before my mentor gets the chance.
By the time I reach the main hallway, miraculously without taking a wrong turn in this maze of stoned walls, sunlight streams through the tall windows decorating the hallways, casting golden streaks across the floor. Shit, was it a full day of training?
Or night?
Honestly, I’ve lost track of time. No wonder I feel like a walking corpse.
The corridor is alive. Students hang garlands of pine.
Thick ropes of green threaded with bright red bows, some big, others dainty.
Water witches are icing crystal icicles and crafting enormous snowflakes, their fingers moving with practiced grace as they whisper the spells to keep them frozen in time.
They'll have to renew the enchantments every twenty-four hours, or start all over again, joy.
Sakura rounds the corner with perfect timing, a cup of something steaming in one hand, her other hand slipping easily around my arm. Her shorter frame naturally syncs with mine as we fall into step, as if we’ve done this a thousand times.
“I’ve come to the delightful conclusion that you’ll probably be needing an energy potion after tonight,” she says in that soft, floaty voice of hers.
Always dreamlike, always with that knowing sparkle in her brown eyes.
“It’s quite the taxing affair, isn’t it?
” She offers the cup, a gift wrapped in mischief.
“I brought extras. Thought you might want to stash a few. You never know when you’ll need…
a little pick-me-up.” Handing me two small flasks of dark liquid.
Of course, she knew, Sakura probably knew everything, like her father.
I take the cup and down it in one go. The moment it hits my tongue, a warm wave rushes through me.
Muscles that had been screaming suddenly go silent.
The exhaustion I’ve been dragging around as a second skin just disappears, as if it was never there.
I glance over at her, a small, surprised smile tugging at my lips.
“Thanks,” my voice softens with gratitude. “This stuff is incredible. It’s almost as good as an iced caramel latte, and that’s saying something! Why aren’t we using it all the time?”
Sakura shifts her weight, bouncing slightly on her heels. Her rose pigtails swing as she moves, each one adorned with little braids and complicated knots. Only she can pull off something this intricate effortlessly. Blowing a strand of petal-colored hair from her eyes, she says.
“Oh, it only lasts six hours. Then you have to wait a full twenty-four before you can enjoy it again, or you’ll fall asleep for twelve.
” She pauses, eyes drifting, following a passing breeze.
“Bit of a predicament, really.” She shrugs, then, almost as an afterthought, “Also… You slowly lose your ability to taste if you overdo it. But don’t worry, there’s a potion for that too. ” My eyebrows shout to my hairline.
Right, and I’m guessing that potion comes with its own charming little hex.
“It’s a very delicate recipe, capricious, even.
And those aren’t my favourite things to make.
” Then she grins. “So, really, you’re lucky I like you.
Otherwise, you’d still be feeling like total rubbish.
” Her eyes sparkle, and despite everything, the prophecy, the training, the weight I’m carrying, I laugh.
True and unburdened, because in this moment, I don’t recall what loneliness feels like.
And that, right now, does more for me than any potion ever could.
Before I can say anything else, Sakura gently steers me down another hallway, our footsteps falling into rhythm again.
Slipping through a side entrance, we head toward the stables, where Nalaka and Vanessa are already waiting.
Slowing down, my brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”
“We have the Grianstad Eve Ball coming up real soon,” Nalaka says with her usual hint of urgency.
“And trust me, you do not want to show up underdressed for that kind of event.” She’s already prepping the fourth horse; clearly done this a hundred times before.
Every motion is clean, efficient, and annoyingly graceful.
Van doesn’t even look up from her chipped black nail polish. “We’re going into town,” she says flatly, the whole thing boring her to death, but I catch it. That flicker in her eyes, a quiet glint of something closer to excitement than she’d ever admit out loud.
Something warm rises in me, a spark of giddy anticipation.
Shopping for dresses with my girls. For one fleeting moment, it all feels wonderfully, impossibly, normal.
Laughter, friends, the steady rhythm of hooves on the path.
But as we ride deeper into the forest, the light changes, grows dimmer and a shadow cuts across the canopy, fast.
Too big to be any bird that belongs in this part of the woods. I glance up, heart skipping, just in time to see a pair of dark wings vanishing between the trees. A chill snakes down my spine; the wind is shifting. There’s something out there.